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Giorno stirred in his nest of blankets as someone knocked on his apartment door. He stretched and yawned. Suppressants always made him drowsy, but it was better than enduring a heat by himself. Pulling himself out of bed, he padded quietly over to the door to peer through the peephole.
Fugo stood in the hallway, holding a paper shopping bag and tapping his foot. Giorno’s nostrils flared. Even on suppressants he felt a slight excitement at the smell of an alpha.
“Bucciarati asked me to bring you a few things. I can leave them out here if you like,” Fugo said.
Giorno wrestled with the decision on whether to open the door for a few seconds before undoing the latch. “Please, come in.” He was far from helpless. The rush of hormones omegas got during their heats increased their physical strength. It was an evolutionary adaptation to drive away undesirable mates.
Fugo looked him up and down and Giorno knew what he must look like compared to his usual self. His normal crisp jewel toned suit was hanging in his closet. Right now all he wore was a pair of loose gray sweatpants and a ribbed tank top. His hair was pulled up in a messy bun and his bangs hung down around his face. It was a far cry from his usual pristine appearance.
Fugo seemed to recover from seeing him en dishabille rather quickly. “Bucciarati got your message. He said to take a day off until it passes.” He handed the paper bag over to Giorno. It was from the restaurant and the smell wafting from it made his stomach grumble. Giorno opened the bag. Inside was a note sitting on top of several clear plastic containers containing slices of cake. He unfolded the note to find Bucciarati’s neat handwriting.
I sent some things that might be to your taste.
Giorno felt himself flush a little and tucked the note in his pocket before Fugo saw it. Was that a thinly veiled innuendo or just a bit of a joke from one omega to another? Sending an alpha to his doorstep while he was in the middle of a heat could be considered courteous he supposed.
He was curious how willing Fugo had been to go on this errand. The alpha looked uncomfortable. He had both hands in his jacket pockets and had moved no further into the room. “He wasn’t sure what kind you would want, so there’s strawberry, chocolate, and lemon.”
“That was kind of him.”
Giorno took the slice of lemon cake out of the bag and set it on the small table in his kitchenette. He paused for a moment before asking, “Would you like to join me? There’s more than I can eat on my own here.”
Giorno’s apartment was a single room. He didn’t miss the way the alpha’s gaze flicked over to the nest of blankets on his bed. Fugo cleared his throat, trying to seem unphased but failing. “Sure. Bucciarati sent some tea along as well. I’ll make you a cup.”
Giorno watched as the Alpha filled the kettle from the small sink and set it on the burner. He looked at a patch of thigh through the cutouts in Fugo’s suit. The blood rushed to his face, and he turned away to look out the window. “I hope I’m not inconveniencing you. Keeping you from studying or anything.”
“No, I’m not in school anymore. Already a University drop out if you believe that.”
“That must be quite the story.”
Fugo took a pair of mugs from the dish rack. “Not really.”
Giorno listened with interest as Fugo recounted the story of his early admittance to University, and how he was subsequently kicked out. Giorno had a feeling he was leaving a few things out, but didn’t press him.
Fugo poured the tea slowly as he finished his story, “My relationship with my parents didn’t last long after that. Then Buccellati found me and the rest is history.”
Giorno wrapped his hands around the cup, enjoying it’s warmth. “We’re close to the same age, but you’ve been with them longer than anyone else in the group from what I’ve surmised.”
“I’ve been with Buccellati ever since he got his own squad.”
Giorno took a sip. The tea was strong and dark, exactly what he usually drank. “Thank you for taking care of me.”
Fugo sat and pulled the box with the strawberry cake toward himself. Giorno noticed that his ears flushed a little pink. “Well, you’re pack now.” Fugo’s eyebrows drew closer together. “Even though some people don’t want to acknowledge it.”
Giorno thought of Abbaccio. “I don’t take it personally.” He sipped his tea while Fugo absently ate a forkful of cake.
The conversation turned to milder subjects. While they talked, Giorno indulged in the idea of inviting Fugo to stay for a longer duration. In an hour or so his suppressant would wear off and if he didn’t take another one, his hormones would skyrocket. Depending on how sensitive his nose was, Fugo might even be able to tell that it was wearing off. Giorno took a sip of tea to quench his suddenly dry throat. He usually kept to himself during his heats but he wasn’t inexperienced in physical matters.
Fugo had finished his cake and Giorno noticed he was fidgeting, twisting a fork between his hands. There was an acidic tinge to the alpha’s scent. Was he anxious? Maybe Fugo wasn’t particularly experienced, though that didn’t seem likely. Chastity was only valued in the most conservative cultures. The high sex drive caused by heats and ruts meant most people didn’t make it out of their teens with their virginity still intact.
Giorno set his empty mug down, “Are you all right?”
“Yes, though I don’t know how much longer I should stay.”
Giorno was good at reading both body language and scents. Fugo’s nervousness bordered on fear. “Are you not used to being around an omega in heat? I would have thought being around Bucciarati for so long you wouldn’t mind it so much.”
Fugo was looking at him with more intensity now, his foot tapping under the table. “Yeah but when Bucciarati is in heat I make him tea and take care of business matters so he can relax. We don’t mesh physically. You’re different.”
Giorno stood and sauntered around the table, “You’ve taken very good care of me so far.”
He watched Fugo’s Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed hard, “This is a terrible idea Giorno. I am not-” He seemed to struggle to find the right words, “I am not well behaved when my blood is up.” He held completely still as Giorno leaned forward over his chair and kissed him.
Fugo’s lips were dry but soft and when Giorno brushed his tongue over them, he could taste cake frosting. Both of Fugo’s hands latched onto the chair’s arms so hard that his knuckles were white. The Alpha’s eyes were closed and his jaw clenched as Giorno pulled away. He wondered what it would be like if Fugo stopped holding himself back. The thought sent a pleasurable little shiver down his spine.
Fugo made a sound like he was choking as Giorno slid down onto his lap and started to scent his neck.
He could see how some people would have reservations about intimacy with Fugo. The alpha’s scent was full of aggression and overwhelming desire. He could see how some omegas would be frightened by it.
Fugo inhaled deeply, and the chair creaked as his body flexed. He felt the heat of the alpha’s breath on his neck as he exhaled through his mouth. One of the alpha’s hands lifted and brushed across his cheek.
Giorno felt his hair come loose as Fugo let the elastic band holding it up drop to the floor. Long fingers combed roughly through his hair. Giorno tilted his head back into the touch and started to purr before he could stop himself.
Fugo wrapped a lock around his fingers and brought it to his lips. “I love your hair. I’ve been wondering what it felt like.”
Their eyes met and a wave of heat hit Giorno right between his legs. Their next kiss was sloppier. Tongue and teeth and lips all involved themselves in the passionate exchange. The hand in Giorno’s hair tugged slightly and Fugo ran his tongue down the side of his neck.
There was a low growl and Giorno gasped as he felt teeth nip the scent gland at the base of his neck hard. He yelped in surprise, squirming at the unexpected intensity of the feelings that coursed through him. He suddenly and vehemently needed the Alpha in his nest and he whined. The sound was so desperate it made him blush.
Fugo’s growl intensified and he bit down harder, pulling their bodies flush together. Giorno let out a little cry at the sting in his neck. Fugo reacted like someone had thrown a bucket of ice water on him. The alpha stood so quickly Giorno almost fell backwards onto the floor.
Fugo backed up against the kitchen counter breathing hard. Giorno could smell the sour smell of fear taint the alpha’s smell again. “I am so sorry.”
The coppery smell of his own blood hit his nose. Giorno put a hand over the place where Fugo’s canines had broken the skin. “It doesn’t hurt-”
“You’re bleeding.”
“Truly, I’m not hurt. I was just surprised.” Giorno took a step closer. Fugo backed up into the refrigerator trying to distance himself. Giorno did his best to hide his disappointment as the heated mood from less than a minute ago crumbled. There wasn’t any sound aside from the two of them trying to catch their breath. Giorno was the first to recover. “I‘ll pour us both some water.”
Fugo didn’t back away when Giorno approached him again. He took the offered glass of water and chugged it like he’d run a marathon.
“Better?” Giorno asked.
Fugo wouldn’t look at him. “I should have known better. I can never control myself.” He froze as Giorno stepped up to take the empty glass from him.
Giorno reached out to straighten Fugo’s tie while the alpha shook like a leaf. “If there is ever a time you decide to relinquish some of that control, I would be interested in being present.” Giorno put a hand under Fugo’s chin and forced the alpha to meet his eyes. “I could handle you.”
Fugo nodded, but Giorno wasn’t sure if he was listening. The moment Giorno let go of him, Fugo nearly tripped over himself as he stumbled out the door with another mumbled apology.
Giorno closed and locked the door. He waited until he heard Fugo’s steps reach the bottom of the stairs before he partially collapsed against the door with a long sigh. He cursed his body which still ached for physical contact that would not happen now. His instincts were driving him to unlock the door, go down the stairs, grab that alpha and-
Get it together Giorno.
He forced himself away from the door, went to the bathroom to splash some cold water on his face, and took his suppressant.